by Aaron Pery
"I'd like that very much, Marty."
When Adam arrived and Marty showed him out to the balcony, he stood at the threshold for a moment, marveling at the magnificent view of the city and the sea. "Gosh, this is a great sight."
"We kind of like it ourselves." Nick, who was grilling the hamburgers, said. "How d'you like yours?"
"Medium rare."
"Then sit down and let's eat because we like it the same way."
"That was delicious, guys." Adam said when he lit up after the meal. "When will you need to replenish your beef stock?"
"We'll let you know once we do. And hopefully we'll soon have a herd large enough to have our own beef."
"How is it doing so far?"
"Great. The original four cows you'd sent us are all pregnant and our happy bull is working hard on getting the twenty new cows pregnant as well."
"Does that mean that your cattle can survive here nowadays?"
"Seems that way but we won't know for sure until the calves are born. Anyway, tell us how things are going on good old Earth before we get into what I'm sure you're anxious to tell us about your search for a doctor."
"Sure. It seems that everyone all over the world is either elated or pissed off at us, but almost all Americans are literally flipping birdies to all of those who aren't getting the new engines and are saying awful things about us arrogant bastards. The big three auto manufacturers went into an intensive campaign to prove that the old cars work perfectly by retrofitting them with the new engine and are having them driven around with big signs telling people how well they work. In the meantime, each had retooled at least one plant to produce the engines, which should start being fitted onto new vehicles in about two weeks."
"How is it going for the Brits?"
"Just as well as in the US, but their production capacity for export isn't going to be as good as ours despite huge orders from the European market."
"Are you saying that everyone would rather buy from them than from us?"
Adam chuckled. "Their hatred for the United States has multiplied greatly ever since I'd made the announcement about our manufacturing and marketing policy. And the Japanese in particular, who refuse to buy even retrofitted American vehicles and had threatened with boycotting all US made products if we don't license them to build the engines and installing them on their own cars."
"How did the president react to that?"
"Grinned from ear to ear when he literally told them to go fuck themselves if they don't like it. In the meantime, some foreign car makers in the US tried to force us to change our policy by renaming their cars to seem as though they're American products, which we refused to accept."
"How about world economy?"
"The first thing that happened was that oil prices dropped immediately to ten bucks a barrel, and are declining steadily. The Japanese, Korean, and European car makers have all declared bankruptcy by now because no one's buying their products, which has thrown their economies into a tailspin. Oh, I'm sure they'll all recover once they realize that the good old days of screwing us are over and start making other products. Canada and Mexico are screaming bloody murder about how heartless America is, yet are lining up to submit their orders for our engines. Our own economy, as you might imagine, is thriving as a result."
"Fantastic. Now, how's Stan doing?"
"Great. Hell, I think he's an even better scrounger than I ever was, and he is being of great help to me."
"I'm glad to hear that. Okay, tell me about the results of your search."
"Which Stan helped quite a bit with finding a suitable candidate and came up with three finalists, all of whom I’d interviewed and came up with one who I think could be the right man."
"Tell me a about him."
"Dr. Victor Redmond is a brilliant physician and diagnostician, but has such an awful bedside manner that he found himself out of work as a physician once he finished his residency requirements."
"Didn’t anyone realize it while he was a resident?"
"No, because he spent most of it in the ER, where patients have little choice about who’s treating them as long as they’re taken care of quickly."
"Makes sense. But I guess since no ordinary patients would choose such a doctor voluntarily he had little choice but to seek other avenues in his field of endeavor."
"Correct. Took him five years of working in various ERs in the worst kind of neighborhoods that are basically war zones before deciding to quit it and enter another field. He actually fell apart for a while after realizing that he’ll never be able to practice his craft, then decided to look for something where he’d be the best there is, and where bedside manners don’t matter."
"In veterinary medicine?"
"Exactly, in which he quickly became just as brilliant at as he was as a surgeon and a gynecologist. Even better actually because he specialized in treating highly expensive race horses. He’s been doing it in various locations across the country during the past fifteen years, taking care of horses that their owners had given up on and turning them into winners."
"Why move around so much if he’s so terrific?" Marty asked, then smiled. "Because he’s just as bad in his manners toward his employers as he was with the patients?"
"Not quite but close. Vic possesses the highest intellect of anyone I’d ever met but his problem is that he has zero tolerance for the fools of this world, especially if he has to work for them. Yet, surprisingly, all of his staffs literally worship him because of his fairness, but they don’t sign the paychecks. So he always gets in trouble with all owners who tolerate him only until he cures and fixes their precious horses and then, once he finishes an assignment he gets the proverbial pink slip—the most recent one happened two weeks ago, which means that he’s available right now if we make him an offer once you see him."
"He sounds like a fascinating character. Did you tell him at all about the locale and people he'd be working on if he took the job?"
"I worried about telling him of Minos or that his patients will be centaurs, so I kind of hinted about things rather than tell him the truth, and he seemed to accept it even when I told him that his job will be located in Greece. He was a bit puzzled, but just shrugged in response."
"Could he be so desperate that he doesn't care any more where he'll work just so he'll draw a salary?"
"Maybe, but I doubt it because he doesn't seem the type. As to earning a salary, I don't think he's that concerned about it because he's a bachelor and has a substantial bank account from what I was able to find. Want me to get him over here and see how he reacts to the people and the surroundings before you talk to him?"
"Good idea. Where is he right now?"
"He lives in Phoenix, from where he flew in to Iowa City yesterday because I wanted to interview him in person. So I set him up in a nice motel, where he is waiting for me to call him back."
"I’m glad. Is Stan reachable?"
"Yes. He's in the trailer I'd set up next to the warehouse that he uses as his office, where I saw him just before I came over."
"Great. Then call him and have him contact Dr. Redmond to see if he can come right over. And if he can, have Stan take him to the warehouse and bring him over here right away."
A moment later, Adam reported that Stan was on his way to pick up Redmond up and that they should arrive in about twenty minutes.
"I'm glad about that. So what we should do is move into the study where Nikki and I will wait for him while you greet him in the living room and bring him in. Oh, and tell Stan that he can go see Paula while we're busy with Redmond."
"Paula? Why?"
"That's another story, which I'll tell you about later. Anything you want to add to what you’d already told me about Redmond?"
"No, but I should caution you to be very careful when you first see him."
"What’s that about?"
"Vic, you’ll see, is rather unusual looking. The fact is that he’s probably the ugliest man you'd ever seen, which one quickly
forgets about because he’s a natural charmer."
"God, Nikki, Adam should’ve warned us that Dr. Redmond looks like a real honest to goodness Neanderthal because I just about showed him my surprise at the way he looks." Marty flashed to Nick as Adam brought him into the office and she saw the ugly, brutish looking huge man for the first time.
Before Nick had a chance to respond, Dr. Redmond began to sway on his feet and his eyes turned inward until only their whites were seen. He was about to fall backward when Adam, who walked right behind him, grabbed the faint doctor and pulled him to a chair while Nick patted his face with water from the carafe sitting on the conference table.
"What the hell happened to him?" Adam asked.
"He obviously just fainted." Nick answered as he fanned him with a folder he had brought with him. "I’ve no idea what caused it because as far as you'd told us he’s supposed to be healthy as a horse, and no pun intended."
"Well, he isn’t right now." Marty came around the desk to look closely at him. "In fact, his face is as white as a sheet."
"Shhh, don’t say any more because he’s coming to and we shouldn’t get him even more embarrassed than he’s gonna be." Nick warned.
They watched with concern as Dr. Redmond’s face regained its color and his eyes opened to look into Marty’s with open fright. "Give yourself another moment to relax, Doctor." She suggested.
Redmond sat up suddenly and, his eyes still locked with Marty’s, said with a shaky voice. "You just spoke into my head, didn’t you?"
"What are you talking about? I didn’t say a word to you, Dr. Redmond."
"Vic, please." Redmond seemed suddenly very calm as he looked around the office. "If you don’t mind, Ms. Sherman, may I have one of your smokes?"
"Of course, and please call Marty." Marty said as she lit his cigarette. "But I wonder how come a physician is a smoker in this day and age."
He grinned sheepishly and Marty had to admit that despite his coarse facial features and protruding brow he was quite charming. "I've been fighting it for what seems like forever, but something always happens to defeat my good intentions."
"Then stop fighting it and start enjoying your vice, filthy though it is."
"I just might." Victor looked at Marty and smiled again. "Are you the Alpha Female of this group, Marty?"
"Strange way of putting it but, yes, I am. Now, cut the bullshit because I’d like to know what happened that made you faint the moment you saw me. Was it the way I and my husband look?" Marty sat across from him and waited for Victor’s answer.
"It wasn’t the way you looked, though I was quite surprised to see a centaur and a kentauride in a place where they have no business being, which I hope you will explain to me soon." Vic answered after a moment. "It what you said, which I now understand was not actually directed at me but rather than about me."
"Which you could clearly hear me saying?"
"As clear as a bell, Marty, telling your husband that I look like a Neanderthal."
"His name's Nick, Nikki to you. Did it upset you very much that I did?"
"I got used to it over the years so it’s no big deal. But that’s not what's the at issue, is it? You want to know how come I could hear you talking without uttering a sound. Right?"
"Of course. And may I assume that it was what had made you faint?"
"It did, because I was sure that no one else in the world can do such a thing, and suddenly I ran into two people who can mind-talk."
"Please tell us how come you could hear me flashing to Nikki."
"Is that what you call it? Anyway, the answer to your question lies in what you said about my looking like a Neanderthal—which is a true fact."
"That’s impossible because they had all ceased to exist thousands of years ago."
"True, about fifty thousand give or take a few. So you must think that I’m crazy to state that I am one. Correct?"
"Yes, because anyone with the least knowledge of genetics recognizes that the Neanderthal and Homo Sapien did not intermingle sexually or otherwise. So since the race you claim to be part of is extinct, how can you be their descendant?"
"Nor should there be any centaurs around who speak American English, but you certainly are. Anyway, you’re quite well informed on the subject, I see, but the problem with scientific theories is that reality doesn’t always work the way they perceive it to be. The fact is that since both races lived virtually side by side and were at least physically compatible, it stands to reason that on occasion there was sexual contact between them, rape most likely, that produced an offspring. It also stands to reason that it had only occurred when a human female conceived a Neanderthal child who looked human because otherwise he would've been destroyed by her people."
"And you think that you descended from such a rare occurrence?"
"Not think but absolutely know that I am, which I'll explain how come in a moment. Anyway, my ancient grandmother bore a normal looking child after she was raped, who carried a recessive Neanderthal gene, which he passed on to the coming generations. It’s evident that it was so because every so often someone in my family was born looking just as I do. The knowledge, so my grandfather told us, had been passed on to every generation even when all looked normal, and that the ones born looking like me are always males, and some are occasionally sterile."
"Are you?"
"I never had myself tested nor did I ever had any sexual relationship so I don't know if I am."
"Are you telling us that you'd never been with a woman? Why didn't you if I may ask?"
"Since we're getting into personal issues you sure can. My problem is that I was born with monstrous size genitals, which could be deadly to any woman I'd try to have sex with."
"Which here is the norm." Nick said with a chuckle. "Oops, sorry about that but I just couldn't resist it. So is that why you'd gained a reputation as a physician with a nasty bedside manner?"
Victor smiled back. "I can understand your reaction. Anyway, you're right in your assessment of why my awful reputation came about, because one can't be overly gracious when his hormones constantly clamor for release and nothing can be done about it. So I got into veterinary medicine, where my bad temper never bothered my patients."
"How did your parents react to your deserting your illustrious career?"
"It saddened them but they understood my reasoning. And better yet, my dad was quite happy about my condition since he knew that because I was an only child the family curse was finally lifted."
"I see. But why, other than your unusual visage and physical attributes, did he consider it a curse?"
"Good question. Scientists are still going crazy trying to figure out what it was that had eradicated a race that seemed to have been no less intelligent than Homo Sapiens. None, so far as I’d discovered, have ever come up with a theory that’s even close to the truth—that it happened as a result of what we nowadays call ethnic cleansing."
"Are you saying that the humans exterminated the Neanderthals? And if that was so, why did they?"
"They most certainly did, but not because of hatreds like some so-called civilized nations practice nowadays, but because they were scared of them."
"Was it because they were physically superior and humans were afraid to be dispossessed?"
"You’re giving the ancients too much credence as thinking people, Marty. No, what they were afraid of was these brutish demons who were able to harm them physically without even a thrust of a spear."
"How so?"
"Because, and it’ll probably sound crazy to you, all my ancestors possessed some awesome mental powers that enabled them to deal with their enemies remotely."
"If that was so then how come it was they who had ultimately lost the war of attrition rather than the humans?"
"It may surprise you considering what you know about how brutal they all looked, that the Neanderthals were a gentle people who abhorred killing other than for food."
"And ended up being decimated themselves?
I’m not surprised because even in today’s world gentle people end up dead. But how come you know such facts, Vic, or is it just your personal theory?"
"No, Marty, these are the hard facts that I'd gleaned from my racial memories that extend all the way down to the dawn of my people."
"Racial memories embedded in your mind? Yes, that make sense."
"So you believe me?"
"Yes, but your theory about the demise of your people is all wrong since the reason for it was that the Neanderthals were overly ponderous in their ways while humans were highly agile both physically and mentally. And, as you know being a scientist yourself, we live in a world where it is the fittest who survive in the end."
"Are you saying that humans were more fit than my people because they were able to move faster?"
"Absolutely, but that was a bonus that they had on top of possessing mental abilities similar to those of your ancestors."
"That’s crazy." Victor burst out. "If that were true then why is it that most of today’s humans are so frail and dumb?"
"Not all, you know—there are two of us in existence against just one of you." Marty responded, grinning. "But that’s not my point, which is that in every locale, once my own ancestors got rid of your people, they had plenty of the time to work on killing of all their special people until none were left alive. It was the purest case of selective breeding, you know, that killed off all the gifted people in favor of dumb ones."
"Jesus." Victor gave her a surprised look. "I hate to admit it, but what you just said makes a lot of sense. So how come only two of you of all humanity possess the same kind of powers that both our remote ancestors used to have? And are you sure that there are no others like you?"
"We were both born as normal people, though above average mentally, and lived for decades as such until I was altered mentally in a freak accident that had turned me into a superwoman."